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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29164656">Insert Pun Here</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpetsocks/pseuds/carpetsocks'>carpetsocks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, One Shot Collection, Random &amp; Short, Sorry Not Sorry, either no accent or badly done, probably out of character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:02:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29164656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpetsocks/pseuds/carpetsocks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of really short one shots about Bwonsamdi and Talanji (because I'm a hopeless romantic and love them both)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bwonsamdi/Talanji (Warcraft)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm sorry for this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Talanji was possibly the strangest person he’d ever tried to court. He doubted that it was just a mortal thing, but maybe? Every high-ranking spirit or demigod might have a history with him, but mortals? Mortals were new.</p><p>The obliviousness? Was that just her personality? Was she faking it? Or was that too related to her lack of experience, her short lifespan?</p><p>Or maybe it was like the old mortal side of his mind wanted him to believe, that she wanted nothing to do with him. Who would be interested in the loa of death? Most people hated him, and she certainly acted like she did. That hatred <em>had</em> gotten warmer, gentler over time, fading into frustration and annoyance, and the sweetness had overtaken the bitterness. He’d caught feelings. To all appearances, she hadn’t.</p><p>Which was unfortunate. Those feelings had burrowed into the deepest part of his heart, blooming into something far more than the fling-crush he was used to. Rastakhan’s deal had guaranteed the loa an eternity with Talanji, and while he felt his face flush at the thought, spirits got bitter over the ages. He had time with her, but it would turn painful. He’d never had a broken heart before; he felt on the edge of one.</p><p>Talanji watched him out of the corner of her eye. He leaned against the railing a few feet away from her, but his mind seemed as far away as the city sprawled out below them. The sound of the noon horn blossomed across the city. Meetings, paperwork, diplomacy, war. She wasn’t sure she liked any of them, but it was her duty. He didn’t notice when she stood up.</p><p>He was tense, but off-guard. She’d heard his voice get soft once before, watched eyes that she thought would blaze forever turn into the warmest embers. She’d kill to witness that again, and he was close now. Just needed a little push.</p><p>She put a hand on his back and stretched up to kiss his cheek. He started out of his thoughts, eyes wide and confused and maybe even a little hopeful. Poor touch-starved loa. For just a moment, he seemed mortal. As much her loa as she was his queen. Equal, and suddenly available for something much deeper than the friendship they’d carved out so far. She smiled.</p><p>“I have to go. See you tomorrow.”</p><p>“See you,” he murmured, bewilderment softening his voice. He really did have a beautiful voice, when he wasn’t abusing it for the sake of sarcasm or a joke. She smiled more and let the elevator take her down into the ziggurat.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>He has one line in De Other Side that he says really softly and I live for it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“If you keep crowding me against surfaces, people will think you like me,” Talanji said. She shoved two hands into his chest, and he let himself be pushed backwards.</p><p>“I do like you, my queen. Just not like that.” His conscience twinged but he ignored it. He’d already thought this out. He didn’t.</p><p>She scoffed and rolled her eyes, walking over to the table in the center of the war room. “You don’t act like it. If you liked me, wouldn’t you help me a bit more? Isn’t that your <em>job </em>as my loa?” Her loa? When had it turned from a loa to <em>her </em>loa? She dismissed the thought with a flick of her hand. He called her his queen; she was only making sure he knew she wasn’t his puppet.</p><p>There he was again, looking over her shoulder, just a touch closer than necessary. With anyone else, she would have elbowed them back into her comfort zone, but the faint chill radiating off him was familiar and oddly calming.</p><p>“Shouldn’t you wait for your council?” He purred in her ear. She snapped away from his smirk.</p><p>“Why are you so close?” She said, moving around the table.</p><p>“It bothers you,” he said nonchalantly.</p><p>“Ugh.” She waved a hand at him. He sighed but stayed where he was.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This reminds me of when I tried to write romance in middle school. It was bad.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING: very bad attempt at writing their accents.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was tradition to make a pilgrimage to the temple of your loa after the harvest feast. Growing up, this had meant riding Tze’na to pay homage to Rezan next to her father. Now, Talanji had a pterodactyl ride over Nazmir to the Necropolis by herself.</p><p>She could go with the other followers of Bwonsamdi, but she doubted they would accept her. They had chosen Bwonsamdi of their own free will. She hadn’t, and they all knew it.</p><p>She procrastinated the whole day, the prickly shifting feeling in her stomach a constant reminder of what she had to do. She waited until after the sun had set. Even the most devoted follower would know better than to be outside in Nazmir at dark. They’d all be huddled in the rebuilt ruins near the temple.</p><p>Her flight master chuckled when she finally got on her pterodactyl. “Ya spend the whole day waitin’? Bwonsamdi must be real fond of ya ta put up wit’ dat.”</p><p>Talanji sighed and took off from the city. Her people didn’t like her being tied to Bwonsamdi, and it’d taken a long time and some dangerous strategy to prove that she wasn’t the death loa’s puppet. Now that Bwonsamdi had seemed to grow a public soft spot for her, that progress was eroding.</p><p>Her pterodactyl landed in the empty, haunted Necropolis, as close to the door as she dared. The statues on either side glared down at her as she walked in. Bwonsamdi was lounging in a hammock tied between a notch in the wall and the fence that kept unwary visitors from falling into the bottomless chasm. He frowned at her as she rounded the corner but didn’t get up.</p><p>“Aye, finally comin’ to pay a little respect, my queen?”</p><p>She inclined her head respectfully and put the package of incense next to the torch. Bwonsamdi scoffed, his glare half pretend, half real. “Ya late.”</p><p>“I didn’t want ta be harassed by ya followers,” she said, leaning against the fence. He came by just to talk often enough that she felt obliged to stay for a little bit.</p><p>“Hmph. I woulda kept ya safe.” He put his hands behind his head, still glaring. She noticed that his “wings” were nowhere to be seen. An odd bit of informality for him.</p><p>“Ya really think I not be coming?” She asked.</p><p>He shrugged and glared at a small gold statue in the wall next to him. She sighed.</p><p>“Well, I’m here now.”</p><p>“I can see dat,” he snapped.               </p><p>“Ya know, communication suits any troll over the age of about one.”</p><p>“Ya could’ve come within visitin’ hours.”</p><p>She sighed. “Wouldn’t be talkin’ to ya if I had.”</p><p>“Fine.” He rolled out of the hammock and walked towards the corner away from her. “I just be over here thinkin’ that I be meanin’ more ta ya, but clearly na.”</p><p>“Didn’t know ya cared.”</p><p>Bwonsamdi gave her an incredulous look and she shrugged with a smile. He let out something resembling a low growl, but any sign of real anger melted away. “Ya be a stubborn one, my queen.”</p><p>“Been hearing dat my whole life.”</p><p>He chuckled. She didn’t think she imagined the fondness in his glance.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You mean there's such a thing as resolving a story at the end?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Could be seen as part 2 of the previous chapter, but doesn't have to be.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Dey should elevate ya to a loa,” Bwonsamdi said, lazily hanging upside down from the rafters.</p><p>Talanji rolled her eyes and reached up to brush fingers with him without ever looking up from her book. “And what would I be de loa of, hm?”</p><p>“Words,” he said, “Books. Poetry.”</p><p>“Poetry?”</p><p>“Ya, like a muse.”</p><p>She frowned at him. “Why would I be de loa of books?”</p><p>“’Cause ya an inspiration, mon.” He grinned and flipped down, landing on his feet. “Even when my inspiration almost be gone. Dere? See dat? I be writing poetry just bein’ around ya.”</p><p>She cracked a smile. “I must na be much of a loa den. Dat was terrible.”</p><p>“Awwww, ya loved it.” He leaned on the back of her chair, grinning ear from ear.</p><p>“Ya be ridiculous, Bwonsamdi.”</p><p>“I be in love.” He poked her cheek gently with his tusk. “Now put dat book away and come with me. Ol’ Bwonsamdi told ya he’d be showin’ ya Ardenweald, and he <em>never</em> be breakin’ a promise.”</p><p>She sighed in mock exasperation and marked her page. “Alright, I be comin’.” His grin grew even larger when she took his hand.</p><p>“Ya be loving it dere.”</p><p>“Dontcha be keepin me dere forever, mon,” she said with a smile up at him.</p><p>“Well, I can’t promise <em>dat</em>,” he whispered in her ear. Another playful nuzzle dispelled her concern, and they vanished into the night.</p>
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